We Are Nowhere And It's Now
by kaybee89
Summary: Alice is miserable, Tarrant is miserable, everyone is miserable. When Alice returns to Underland after a horrible accident, she resumes her duties as Champion, fights her own madness and wrestles with feelings for the one man she never could quite forget.
1. Interruption

Mirana had, ever since her years as Underland's delicate, kind, and hauntingly beautiful little princess, accustomed herself to the idea that in order to rule a world in which justice, beauty, and loyalty reigned in a harmonious balance, she must continually portray herself as a statue of grace, humility, and tranquility. She made it her personal mission to never let her subjects see her frazzled or worried, upset or unorganized for fear of putting ideas of doubt in their minds. She had witnessed firsthand the cruelty and humiliation that came from the leadership of her sister, who let her moodiness and selfish anger rule for her. She never allowed her people to see her as anything less than the perfect, collected person she pushed herself to remain, believing that only then would her mind stay unclouded from judgment and enabling her to win the respect of Underland.

Their respect was key. She had vowed never to rule through the fear and violence many subjects of Underland had timidly lived under for so long. It was why she welcomed public audiences with her subjects, eager to personally aid or solve the problems that ailed them whenever she could. And the subjects loved her for it. They adored her graceful stature and kind words, always delivered, good or bad, with a soft but firm resonance that never demeaned or insulted. She made them feel like every moment spent with them was the most important part of her entire day.

So it was a surprise to everyone standing quietly in the sunny throne room where Mirana received her public when an audience with a farmer in need of assistance with his flooded fields was interrupted. After a timid attendant dressed in a white coat with silver trim kindly interrupted Mirana's audience with the bashful farmer, he leaned his frog face by her ear and began muttering something urgent. Glances of confusion were exchanged, as the Queen allowed almost nothing to divert her attention from these meetings. The assembled crowd watched in awe as the messenger's words sent waves of unsettling expressions on their poised queen's face, varying from sadness to outright horror as she comprehended the message. The crowd emitted a collective gasp of shock when, without so much as a word of explanation, the Queen stood abruptly and fled from the room, her heavy skirts billowing out behind her almost knocking over the nervous little messenger at her side and the soldiers lined up behind her.

For a moment, the communal shock of those present showed itself in a deadly silence as they stared upon the dais at the Queen's silver chair which sat glaringly empty. Then suddenly, all at once the whispered questions and gossip began to fly as the confused crowd stood in surprise. The attending soldiers and servants appeared to be just as shocked at their queen's actions as the public felt, and were clearly unsure of what to do next. They exchanged wary glances, uncomfortable with the hundreds of eyes that looked up to them for direction. Guard, defend, fight to the death… that was all fine and dandy. But nowhere in their job description was the need for public speaking or smoothing over awkward social blunders.

Eventually, all eyes in the large, airy room locked onto the shivering attendant who had sent the queen flying from her seat. He gulped, locking his shaking hands behind his back as he gazed about the room of expectant commoners he had just stolen attention away from. Clearly no one else was going to say anything to them, and why would they as he was the one with all the information? Standing as straight and tall as he could muster, he cleared his throat and raised his voice, trying desperately to steady his trembling knees, before addressing the room in his low, throaty voice.

"The Queen has urgent matters to attend to, and apologizes for any inconvenience this interruption has caused you. We beg for your patience and kindness as she resolves the matter at hand, and will eagerly welcome your presence at the castle in due time. Thank you."

A few subjects immediately raised their voices in complaint or concern, and the volume steadily increased as the crowd began to comfortably voice their opinions on the strange occurrence they had just witnessed. The soldiers present lined themselves up on the dais in front of the throne, presenting an authoritative and imposing presence only to prevent anyone from getting any ideas, and slowly the crowd began to turn and filter back through the doors several soldiers were directing them through.

Their voices bounced and rang off the high ceilings, but the only voice the frog messenger could hear as he collapsed behind the high backed throne in exhaustion was the screams he had been sent to alert the Queen of from floors above, resounding in his ears like a never ending echo of heartbreaking terror. He shook his head violently, covered his hands with his ears, but nothing could erase the sounds he had gladly fled from. They had embedded themselves deep inside of his brain, rooted in place beside his ear drums and shouted at him from inside his head. He sighed in defeat, letting his hands drop to his sides. _Some sounds, _he thought,_ just can't be unheard._

He was one of the many who liked to think that Queen Mirana could do anything. Her loving and generous treatment of everyone had proven she had the ability to fix whatever or whoever was broken or hurting. But for the first time, the loyal attendant felt a twinge of doubt in the corner of his mind that wasn't already filled to the brim with the memory of desperate screams. He thought the world of the White Queen and her kindness, her voice, her powers of alchemy… but even he knew that nothing and no one could retrieve a man from the edge of madness once he'd already thrown himself off of it.


	2. The Burning Man

"Damn these slurking skirts!" Mirana muttered as she tripped over the numerous layers for the third time since her flight from the throne room. "My feet can't see a thing."

With an impatient sigh she slowed down her run enough to lean forward and lift the fabric a few inches above her feet, balling the pretty fabric in her hands. It would have been easier to simply remove the damned thing and run in her petticoats, but despite the urgency of the matter at hand, that was a level of impropriety she wasn't willing to reach just yet. With her skirts out of the way, she felt an immediate relief from her feet which she let lead her as fast as they could through the maze of halls and doors that led to the wings of personal apartments.

When she had first felt nervous little Numa's webbed tap on her shoulder, a flicker of annoyance rushed through her. Not only had he interrupted her concentration, but he had completely cut off the man speaking in front of her. The poor farmer was clearly embarrassed to ask for her assistance, wringing his hat like a wet rag and speaking with flamed cheeks at the ground far more often than at her, and it didn't help that his turn was being halted by a crisply dressed frog. She had turned with a pleasant smile to face the twitchy attendant, the look in her eyes enough to set the poor frog's legs to shaking even harder.

"Yes?" She said quietly.

"Y-Your majesty, I am s-s-so sorry to interrupt you, but I was s-s-sent to fetch you," he said hurriedly.

Mirana resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his words. She didn't think so highly of herself as to be seriously annoyed at being retrieved like an inanimate object, but she was still the queen. Queens just weren't fetched, especially in the middle of a very important audience with her public.

"Whatever for?" She said, hardly moving her lips to keep the smile plastered on and mask her irritation.

Numa glanced ever so slightly behind them at the row of stern soldiers and leaned closer to her ear to deliver his message. "My Q-Queen, there has been a recent problem with the hatter. Two maids were passing his apartments when they heard a loud crash and angry yelling coming from inside…"

At the mention of Tarrant, Mirana became genuinely interested, her late worry for her friend manifesting itself into a wash of emotion on her face. However, despite her worry, the hatter had always been known to throw and break things when the darkness inside of his mind took over and no one was around to bring his focus back to the present. She nodded curtly despite herself, wanting Numa to simply tell her what had happened.

"… and they became concerned. One of the girls went inside…"

"They went inside!" Mirana said surprised, accidentally raising her voice. _Stupid girl, _she thought to herself_. What in the name of Absolem was she thinking? _"Did he hurt her?"

Numa nodded reluctantly. "Not severely, but she's already begun to bruise where he shook her. The other girl called over a couple of us attendants to help, and two guards are currently keeping him from harming anyone else, but even they're afraid to enter the room to c-c-calm him."

"Well what set him off this time?" She asked, leaning forward to hear his answer.

The frog shrugged his little shoulders with uncertainty. "We're not sure. He's too far g-gone now to tell. But Your Highness… it's much worse than the last time. He was already bad when we all went inside to rescue the girl, but our presence there just aggravated him. He's throwing anything he can get his hands on, lashing out and destroying e-everything. The room might not even be standing by the time he calms down."

"What's he saying? Is he yelling anything in particular this time?"

"W-W-Well yes and n-no. Mostly he's just sobbing and screaming a slur of curses and words that don't make any sense. But he also keeps saying Alice and begging her to…"

Mirana felt the blood drain from her face. Clutching the arm of her chair with a vice like grip, she asked, "What color?"

Numa gulped loudly and tore his eyes away from his Queen.

"Numa," she said firmly, trying to hide the wave of anxiety that had suddenly sent her stomach plummeting into her toes. "What color are they?"

The little frog looked up at her, his large lidded eyes full of a heavy sadness and dread.

"Black," he squeaked.

Mirana hadn't let him say anything further. She had jumped out of her seat, abandoning all desire to help with flooded fields and neighborly disputes and sprinted from the room, pushing aside her surprised line of knights with a forcefulness she didn't usually exhibit. This situation was far worse than she had let herself believe it would be. There was no time for a graceful exit or speech of eloquent apologies, someone else could deal with the crowd of whispering commoners she left behind her.

She stopped by the kitchens, ignoring Thackery's confused and twitchy mutterings and flinging open a cupboard full of various sized vials and containers with an assortment of different colors inside of them. She searched frantically for what she was looking for, pushing several bottles roughly aside and dooming one to shatter at her feet. When she spotted the line of little vials full of clear liquid she grabbed two and, turning on her heel, exited the kitchen as quickly as she'd entered.

By the time she reached the long hall where her dear friend's apartment was located, not only was she out of breath, but his hoarse screams of terror had already filtered their way down to her. Mirana paused briefly at the end of the corridor, taking it all in. The sobbing maid sitting on the floor with her head in the lap of another girl a ways down from one of the only doors in the hall, the armed and on edge knights that stood keeping Tarrant securely inside of his room, and the frantic conversations between three other attendants clumped together unsure of what to do or how to help. She inhaled through her nose, pushing towards the opened double doors in the middle of the hall. As she passed the bruised girl, she reached in a pocket of her dress and pulled out a small vial of dark green liquid.

"Here," she said, tossing it to the maid comforting her friend as she brushed past them. "Tell her to drink it. It'll heal her."

The string of curses only got louder the closer she got. She flinched as an ear splitting crash sent shards of glass flying out of the open door, quickly followed by an animal like howl. She made to go inside of the door straight away, but one of the knights pushed her gently away with the shaft of his spear.

"No, Your Majesty!" The knight she recognized as Alder yelled above the din. He was the guard she had sent to this hallway earlier in the week to look out for Tarrant after his last episode. "It's not safe for you in there!"

"But I have to go inside!" Mirana protested. "I have to administer this potion before he does serious harm to himself!"

Alder shook his head adamantly. "With all due respect My Queen, he's already injured one person today and that's all I'm allowing. I cannot permit you to enter."

Mirana opened her mouth to protest some more, but was stopped by the voice she heard speaking from the depths of the completely trashed room. It was deep and hoarse and sounded like nothing she had ever heard before as it spat and snarled out a curious mixture of Outlandish and, as far as Mirana could tell pure gibberish. She gasped when she saw the man behind the unfamiliar voice, pacing frantically in what had once been a parlor but now more closely resembled a battlefield. His clothes were wrinkled and ripped, and as he turned she caught glimpse of a long brown stain down the front of his shirt that must have been tea. His hair was wilder than usual, as if it had a mind of its own made worse as he pulled at it with his closed fists with a fury Mirana hadn't realized he was capable of. Three bloody scratches traveled down his cheek all the way to his chest, but he didn't seem to be paying them any mind. To Mirana, he looked like a man being burned alive, the despair and anguish rolling off of him in palpable waves.

"Did you scratch him?" Mirana said outloud, sending accusatory glances at her ready knights.

The second one, another seasoned guardsman Phineas, spoke. "No Your Highness… he did that to himself a few minutes ago."

Mirana choked back a sob, placing a hand on her chest to calm her racing heart and force a breath through her lungs. What was happening to her poor friend? What darkness had overtaken the man she knew to be so kind, so sweet, so full of life?

"Oh, Tarrant…" she said, more to herself than anyone else.

Inside the room the hatter, who had clearly long since passed the stage of madness he usually drifted in, heard his name whispered on her soft breath and halted in mid step. Turning to face the voice, Mirana watched as he found the source and stared at her. At least, she thought he was looking at her. He didn't seem to be able to focus well, more looking through her and around her than actually at her. She felt her heart break as she watched him stand in front of her panting, his chest rising and falling as if he'd just run from one end of Witzend to another. But her sadness didn't stop the wave of fear that washed over her like a bucket of icy cold water when she looked into his eyes and saw nothing but night.

Flat, black, empty, like the eyes of the evil demonic spirits Iracibeth had been so fascinated with when they were children, his eyes stared back at her with not even the tiniest sense of her lovable friend inside of them.

It was the most terrifying sight Mirana had ever witnessed.

Despite the fear that sent her knees to shaking like jelly, Mirana took a tentative step forward, ignoring the flurry of movement beside her as the guards moved to block her entry. Damn her own safety, this level of madness her friend was now in couldn't be ignored. "Tarrant?" She said, louder this time. "Tarrant, it's Mirana."

She waited in vain for a flicker of recognition, a shift in eye color that would signify he was in control of even the smallest part of his mind. When none came, she whispered to Alder, "You're going to have to come in with me and pin him down so that I can force him to drink this."

He made a sound as if to argue but Mirana jerked her head in a gesture he took to mean 'Not Now'. She pushed him lightly aside, giving her just enough room to squeeze inside the apartment. He didn't even let her get a step ahead of him before he began to follow, his spear reaching out past her side like a strange third arm.

"Tarrant, I know you can hear me in there. Somewhere inside you're still there," she said as she continued her slow, methodic steps closer.

A strange gurgling hiss left the back of his throat as she got within arm's length of him, halting her in place. "Tarrant? Oh, sweet Tarrant let me help y…"

A dead silence erupted through the room, a stark change from the cacophony of sounds that had taken place. The tension, however, remained thick and Mirana took a deep breath to steady her nerves before opening her mouth to speak again.

She hardly had time to register the fact that Tarrant was lunging for her, his hands reaching out like vicious claws and his mouth opened in a ragged yell before Alder had pushed her out of the way and tackled him to the ground. Mirana watched as the two struggled, rolling about the debris covered floor before Alder successfully pushed Tarrant down face first. He dug his knee into Tarrant's back to keep him from thrashing away while the Phineas appeared instantly at Mirana's side.

"Turn his head and open his mouth," Mirana ordered without looking at him, unstopping the vial she held in her hands while the knight did what he was told. She sank to her knees and shoved the strong smelling liquid into Tarrant's mouth, held open with the thumbs of her knight. She winced as Tarrant began to gag, a large portion exiting his mouth as he began to cough. She fumbled with the small cork top of the next vial, opening it with a soft pop before tilting its contents into Tarrant's open mouth.

She let the guards hold him down for a few moments longer, mostly to appease them. But her concoction was strong, and before long she could see Tarrant's movements begin to weaken, his jaw falling slack and his clutching hands relax at his sides limply. Noises stuck in the back of his throat, a soft mixture of nonsense syllables. Mirana motioned for the guards to turn him over on his back so she could hear him better as she strained to make sense of what she assumed he was trying to say.

"Mir… Mir…ana…"

The Queen breathed a shuddering sigh of relief as she recognized her name between the gasps of air erupting from his trembling lips. She placed a cool hand on his fiery cheek, watching in both sadness and awe as the pools of despair that had taken up residence in his eyes faded slowly to a muddy, dull, brownish-green.

"Shhh," she soothed. "I'm here Tarrant. Everything's going to be okay."

He opened his mouth as if to speak again, and she strained her ears to capture his words.

"Mir…ana… Al… ish… Al...ish…"

She continued to shush him as if she were soothing a whimpering baby, watching as his eyes drifted close and his breathing slowly calmed to that of a person in a deep, restful sleep.

Mirana nodded to the guards and they reluctantly let go of the hatter, reaching for their weapons hurriedly despite the shake of Mirana's head. "There's no need for those now," she said with a sigh, reaching out to pat down the wild orange hair that was now missing in a couple of spots. "That draught in small doses will bring him back, but two will put him out for a long while."

Her guards nodded and stepped back, trusting their Queen's knowledge of the art of potions and giving her space with her injured friend.

Mirana began to feel a powerful sense of hopeless creep over her as he slept, her heart sitting heavy in her chest. This was the third episode in a week, and while she was aware that they had been getting progressively worse, nothing in her past experience with Tarrant had led her to be prepared for the likelihood of this disaster. She glanced around the room for a moment, attempting to assess the damage but looked quickly away. It was just too painful to take in on top of everything else.

"Ma'am, I don't mean to be forward, but you've told me enough about his problems to make me curious," said Alder. Mirana nodded without looking up at him, so he continued. "Why don't you bring back the Champion yourself? You're the Queen… surely you can locate her even in Upland and force her back."

Mirana shook her head sadly, and stood up brushing the debris and dirt off of her skirt. "I wish I could Alder. The thought has, admittedly, crossed my mind more than once as of late. But to send her home back on Frapjous Day I gave her Jabberwocky blood, and there's little I can do to bring her back now."

Alder frowned, confused, and Mirana understood. "Jabberwocky blood in its purest form will grant one wish for the drinker, with almost instantaneous effects," she explained patiently. "Alice's wish was to return directly to the place she had entered Underland from, which it did. But the lasting effects of the blood, being undiluted as it was, remain in her blood stream for a long time and forbid me from summoning her or calling to her with any potion or draught I could ever create."

"So she can't ever return?" Alder whispered.

"No, no," Mirana said softly, gazing down at the body sprawled out at her feet. "She can return of her own accord. The blood doesn't tie her to anyone place, it just won't let anyone but her break the wish she made. She wished to go home, and until she wishes otherwise that blood will continue granting her that single wish."

"So until she returns, there's little we can do for him," Alder said, a trace of the hopelessness Mirana was feeling woven throughout his words.

The Queen found herself nodding heavily as her eyes filled with tears for the first time. She couldn't bring him peace of mind or heart anymore than she could return her lost friend from the confusing world of Upland. The truth as it was, though painful, was rather simple. Until Alice returned, as she'd essentially promised she would, there was nothing left that she could do.

* * *

><p>I hope, so far, that you're enjoying the story. I don't honestly know where it's going right now, but it's the first Alice and Wonderland story I've started that I actually liked enough to put up. (: I have some basic ideas, but that's about it. Anyway.. there's a lot going on right now, so I don't know how often I'll be able to update, (especially because I have two other stories that haven't been touched in a while) but I'm enjoying writing this so hopefully it will be soon.<p>

Please review and let me know what you think!

love, kaybee


	3. Talking to the Moon

There had once been a time when Alice was afraid of the moon.

It had all started when she was around six years old, after the nightmares had become rather frequent occurrences. She would awaken from her dreams with tears in her eyes only to find herself in a room filled with a shivery blue light that threw shadows on the walls where the demons could hide and snatch her up. She was terrified of those shadows and what lurked inside of them, and blamed the moonlight for harboring them inside her room.

"The moon is your friend Alice," her father would whisper over and over as he smoothed the worry from between her eyes and blotted the frightened tears off her cheeks. "See how it lights up the darkness? How it sends its beams in through your window, and keeps away the monsters? The moon is good, sweetheart, not evil."

But when that didn't work, her father had approached a different tactic several weeks later.

"Why don't you try talking to the moon, Alice?" He'd suggested after one rather horrible nightmare had sent her into a fit of terrified screams. "I know you think it's helping the monsters hide, but maybe if you tell it you'd like it to stop, it will listen to you."

Figuring anything was better than nothing, little Alice had begun to whisper hesitant words to the moon hoping that it would understand she couldn't handle anymore monsters in her life. As time passed, although the nightmares never quite disappeared, talking to the moon at night became a ritual that she had to complete before sleep would come. For years she would lay tucked under the covers and tell the moon everything she could think of to say, finding that it wasn't like the other kids at school who teased her for the ideas she shared, or the grownups who shook their heads and dismissed her ramblings as childhood nonsense. It simply listened to her in silence, absorbing her words with grace while lighting up her room with a gentle glow that she came to recognize as battling her demons rather than hiding them. It had been a friend to her when having friends was a difficult thing to come by, and it had always stood by her in times of trouble.

Now, however, as Alice stood leaning against the rail of the quiet ship, she looked up and felt a deep sense of betrayal, for the moon she gazed at was staring down at her with a furious sense of judgment.

She didn't understand how it could be betraying her so, how something she considered such a stable part of her now quite uncertain life could suddenly look so foreign. Especially lately, after everything the moon had come to mean for her during her time spent traveling back and forth to China.

"It's a cold one tonight," a low voice rumbled from over her shoulder. Alice turned her head slightly, startled from her contemplating, meeting a pair of sparkling blue eyes and a kind smile and answered it with a soft, disinterested smile of her own.

"I reckon it is, Jacob," she said softly, looking back out at the invisible horizon as Jacob, a young sailor who'd started the day Alice herself set sail, walked up beside her and leaned against the rail. She could feel his body heat, so inviting now that she realized how chilled she was, but subtly inched away from him.

"What are you doing out here Miss Alice?" He asked, sounding genuinely curious and remarkably less condescending then the tone she was used to from the sailors. But then again, Jacob had never talked to her in that way.

Alice shrugged, clasping her hands together. "I just needed some air."

The pair was silent for a moment. Alice could feel Jacob's gaze on her, waiting for a more elaborate answer, or maybe just to figure out if she was alright. Which she wasn't, but she also wasn't going to give him the answers he wanted. She had nothing on this ship but her secrets, and she wasn't sharing them with Jacob just because he was the only person who respected her at all.

"The moon's… pretty."

Alice fought the urge to smile at his lame and completely unwelcome attempts at conversation. She opened her mouth to agree with him, before she remembered that the moon had done nothing all night long but openly mock her pain with its ceaseless judging stare. So she said nothing, opting for a little nod.

"You come out here every night there's a full moon," he continued matter-of-factly.

Alice sighed. "Yes," she agreed. "I do. I like the moon."

Silence fell between them, born from her lack of interest and his awkward conversation starting attempts. Before she realized what she was saying, Alice blurted out.

"It's rather bothering me tonight, though."

She felt Jacob's eyes on her, waiting for her to elaborate on both how and why a celestial object could irritate her so. She didn't turn to meet his gaze, tilting her head slightly and squinting up at the moon as if by doing so, it would answer those questions for her too.

Eventually, Jacob broke. "Um… why?"

Slowly Alice turned her head towards him, frowning as if she hadn't quite heard what he'd said.

"What?"

Jacob smiled a small smile and asked again. "Why is the moon bothering you, Miss Alice?"

She bit her bottom lip. Why was the moon bothering her? Because it's normally comforting sight, it's wide open, honest face had turned accusing and was telling her exactly what she didn't want to hear. It was telling her she'd made the wrong choice, that her loneliness and heartache were her own fault, and that she didn't belong here. It was telling her things that she had tried very hard to bury deep down in the depths of her heart, where not even she could retrieve them even if she wished to, and it hurt. It hurt to know that were she someplace else, in a world far different from her own, with him and her and them, her friends, she'd be staring up at the moon and feeling much different than she did tonight.

But she couldn't tell Jacob that. With a start, she realized that during her mental answering of his question she had remained staring at him, probably with a rather manic look in her eyes. She had caught herself giving her own reflection that look several times over the past couple of months, and it was rather frightening. Alice shook herself, quickly averting her eyes back out at the dark sea.

"Well," she said finally, "it just appears to be mocking me."

She could practically feel Jacob's frown and confusion palpitating towards her.

"The moon is… mocking you?"

" Yes," she said firmly, looking back at him with a defiant stare that dared him to mock her as well.

He continued to frown, but gently asked after a moment, "Why would the moon be mocking you? Have you offended it in some way?"

Alice felt a slight stirring inside of her as he said that, and was unable to fight the small lift at the corners of her mouth. It was just so very much like something she would have heard in… the other place… that she couldn't resist. She felt herself relax the slightest bit.

With a gentle shrug she answered him, "I suppose I must have."

Jacob's face looked thoughtful for a moment as he gazed up at the glowing orb himself, his brows slightly furrowed and his lips pursed. "Well," he said finally. "You should probably apologize then."

"I suppose that would be the logical thing to do," Alice said quietly. "But I'm not sure it's going to accept my apology. Once you've taken advantage of something to make yourself feel better it's hard to pretend like you didn't do such a thing."

Jacob smiled at her with a bemused expression, but, thankfully, he didn't press the subject further nor did he mock her answer.

"You know, you're not the first to upset it. There was a girl who upset the moon once before according to this one New Zealand tribe."

Alice raised her eyebrows with a good natured skepticism and a boat load of curiosity. If there was one thing she was a sucker for, it was a good story, and sailors were full of them. Although she really had hoped Jacob would leave her in peace, she couldn't resist.

"What happened to her?" She asked.

Jacob smiled, clearly pleased with himself for catching her interest for the first time that night. "Well," he started, his voice deepening into the tone he had perfected for telling stories among the other sailors. "The legend comes from the Maori people, and they believe that the moon stole a woman from the Earth after she offended it."

He paused for a moment, waiting for a sign of Alice's displeasure in his story. But when all he received was a patient silence and her unblinking blue eyed gaze, he continued.

"Her name was Rona, and although she was beautiful, she was a fiery woman with a large temper, and she had a rather sharp tongue that she exercised on her awful husband who didn't treat her very well. One night, after a rather heated argument between the couple on who would go out and fetch the water, Rona set out in the dark. The Moon was out, and it had watched the whole argument transpire. He felt rather bad for Rona, who was so unhappy with her husband, and he did his best to light her way to the stream. But when a cloud passed over his face, the world was thrown into darkness causing Rona to trip and hurt her foot."

"So she cursed it?" Alice asked, very much into the story.

Jacob nodded. "She did. The Moon looked down at her and said, calm as can be, 'Be careful what you say, lest you be made to pay.' But Rona was so upset with her husband and her life and the Moon for betraying her, albeit accidentally, that she continued to insult it. So the moon became furious and plucked her from the ground and pulled her up into the sky."

"So she was doomed to live a life of unhappiness forever, trapped behind a mistake she made?" Alice muttered, more to herself than to him.

Jacob looked at her peculiarly for a moment before he shook his head, no. "The Moon forgave Rona eventually and treated her with great kindness. And even though her husband continued to search for her on Earth, the Moon was falling in love with the fiery spirited woman he'd watched for so long on Earth. So, because he loved her, he told her that if she wished to return to Earth to be with her family she could. But Rona realized that she too loved the Moon, and that she didn't wish to be parted from him ever again."

Beside him, Alice remained silent. Jacob looked at her, examining her profile as she looked out at the invisible horizon. Everything about her stance was tense and guarded, from her jaw to her locked hands, and the slump in her shoulders that made her look so defeated. There was a deep sadness in her eyes that he had never seen before in such a young woman, and despite the impropriety of it, he found himself desperately wanting to take that sorrow from her.

She could feel him staring at her, but she was too busy contemplating the story to care much. She wasn't sure how she felt about it, but she could empathize with Rona. She wondered if she were given the chance to leave this world and never return would she take it.

_But you've already been given that chance you silly twit,_ she thought to herself. _Twice! And each time you came crawling back to the safety of normalcy. At least Rona recognized happiness when she had it and didn't throw it away._

"But what happened to Rona afterwards?" Alice asked suddenly, curious about the woman's fate. "Did she just sit around in the sky with the moon for eternity? Never doing anything for herself? She just gave up everything she could have done? Everything she could have been on Earth?"

She could tell she'd caught Jacob off guard a little with her swarm of questions. The story hadn't been made to make her think, she knew. It had been told to make her feel better, to entertain her, to distract her from her worries for a moment. But, God bless him, he thought over her questions for a moment.

"Well, the legend goes that the Moon was so overjoyed to have her with him for always that he gave her a cloak made out of stars and put her in control of the tides."

"But what about her family? Even if she didn't get along with her husband, I'm sure she had parents or children that she was responsible for. And she just left them all?"

"Well," Jacob began slowly. "Maybe she just realized that her happiness was more important than her duty. Maybe she was tired of holding onto a life that she wasn't really living."

That threw Alice for a loop. Was it possible for people to do such things? To live for yourself rather than other people? She'd thought that this journey was supposed to do just that for her. It was supposed to solidify her standing as an accomplished, successful young woman while also upholding her father's dream and making her family proud of her. She'd felt that those things were important, that without accomplishing them she'd never truly know herself.

But what if she'd chosen a different path? One that she truly wanted, not just thought she'd wanted? Too tired to contemplate anymore, she leaned heavily against the railing letting the ship support her and closed her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Miss Alice. I didn't mean to upset you. I thought you'd like the story," her companion whispered shyly.

She opened her eyes and sighed. Just because she was so low and lost didn't mean she had to drag down the poor boy with her. He was only trying to help. She looked at him and smiled the most sincere smile she could muster and thanked him for the story.

"It was a lovely story," she said kindly. "And I did like it, very much."

"I don't mean to pry," he began after another silence, which, Alice noted, were starting to become more companionable as the time passed.

"Which is usually what people say right before they do just that," Alice interrupted with a soft smile. Even in the pale light she could see the darkening blush on his cheeks, making him look much younger, and it endeared him to her.

"Go on," she said with a genuine smile.

He cleared his throat. "Well, I thought… I mean I was just wondering if perhaps the moon is… offended because of something _you_ said to it."

The smile vanished from Alice's face in an instant, her entire body tensing into an immobile position as her hands squeezed together in a painful embrace. "What did you say?" She said, embarrassed at the breathlessness of her tone.

Jacob's blush deepened under her stare, which she was positive was turning more manic by the second. To his credit, he didn't back away from her as most others would've, simply swallowing down his discomfort and staring back at her.

"Well," he began carefully. After a pause, during which Alice's panicked glare didn't break once, his words rushed out in a flood that was hard for her to even catch. "I wasn't spying on you or anything, I swear it! I just happened to be on watch during the full moon last month and while I was on my rounds I saw you up at the bow of the ship and you were speaking to someone but I didn't see anyone with you so I got closer to… to hear you better."

Still Alice said nothing, paralyzed by both fear and a crippling embarrassment. Questions bombarded her mind, what had he heard? who had he told? why he had he thought it appropriate to listen in on a private conversation…

…_but it isn't exactly a private conversation when the only person present in the conversation appears to be talking to herself_, she thought to herself sadly.

"And you were looking up at the moon," Jacob continued warily. "So I assumed… you know. That you were talking to… it."

Alice wasn't stupid. She knew, just like she had lived her entire life knowing, that people thought she wasn't quite right in the head. She knew that her rebellious nature, as well as her powerful habit of daydreaming and strange habits had cast her as the odd daughter of Helen and Charles Kingsleigh, and despite her best efforts, that reputation had preceded her onto the ship. The sailors in the beginning had talked about her openly; mostly harmless wondering, but the occasional mocking jab or sharply pointed question of her sanity had sent her into a spiral of self doubt. This whole trip had been about discovering herself, about opening her eyes to the world and experiencing something outside of the confines of her life. But when the people around her refused to give her a chance, it didn't matter what she did to prove herself. She couldn't win.

One night it had all just become too much and all she'd wanted was to talk to _him_. She had for a long time, felt a powerful need to communicate with him, despite how impossible it was. He wasn't there, (because she had chosen to leave him, Alice reminded herself rather forcefully) and the moon had been. And its presence reminded her of a night that felt so long ago, a cool, silvery night heavy with the scent of cherry blossoms and sparkling dew. He had been standing beside her, looking out at the trees that glowed alabaster in the moon's fickle light, the dark clouds coming and going as they pleased to cover the moon's round face. She had told him she'd miss him when she woke up, still believing that the world she'd been dropped into head first was nothing more than a figment of her imagination. He'd looked away with resounding disappointment and deep thought crowding in on his colorful face and she'd felt a wave of remorse for making him upset. But he'd stayed with her nonetheless, the whole night long, looking and talking and trying to make her laugh… trying to ease her burden.

So, with most of the ship asleep, the only sounds being the whisper of wind against the sails and the rush of water against the hull, Alice had opened her mouth hesitantly, and began speaking quietly to the moon, just like she had all those years ago as a frightened child. It was a silent audience, but if she closed her eyes it was like he was there with her, answering her questions and comforting her with his toothy grin and comforting, innocent wisdom.

She had told him everything she could think of to tell, about her adventures and misadventures, of her pain and loneliness, of her joys and triumphs. She had spent most of the night whispering into the wind as the moon traversed across the sky, and when its glow began to pale in the light of the oncoming morning she had brushed away a stray tear that had escaped the confines of her lashes and bid him goodbye.

Since then, it had been something to look forward to… that full moon. It had given her hope that she could make it through this adventure she had forced herself on, sure. But also the hope lingered deep inside of her that somewhere on the other side of that ivory moon, he was talking to her too.

Alice shook her head with a world weary sigh. _I'm a fool,_ she thought sadly. _I'm a fool who sits alone and talks to the moon. _

Jacob was still standing beside her, clearly torn between embarrassment at bringing it up and concern for her silence. He'd tried to be so subtle, with his cultured knowledge of legends from faraway places, hoping she'd bring it up on her own. But Alice knew he wasn't threatening her with his knowledge of her midnight crazy, nor did he appear to be implying that he indeed thought that's what she was. He seemed to be making a genuine attempt at friendship, which though odd in itself, especially in this manner, was something that Alice decided she should try very hard to not screw up.

"I was," she admitted with a shake of her head. She looked at his face, trying to smooth out the tightness around her eyes and the defensiveness in her tone, trying to let him know she was being sincere. "I was talking to the moon."

"I understand," he answered with a slight nod of his head.

"No you don't," Alice said back with a good natured smile. And he didn't understand, there was no way he could. "It's sweet of you to try, though."

He grinned at her with a smile that, she had to admit, was pretty dazzling. "You're a pretty tough nut to crack," he said.

"And you think you've figured me out now, is that it?"

A laugh erupted from Jacob's throat, and Alice found she rather liked the sound of it. Sailors were a rowdy bunch when they had the opportunity, and the ship was often full to the brim with noise and laughter. But she had so rarely been included in it that it felt foreign to her. She couldn't even remember the last time she herself had laughed.

"No, Miss Alice, I don't think that at all," Jacob answered, running a hand through his short hair. "I just think that maybe you're not quite like what everyone says you are."

"And what is that exactly?" Alice asked, knowing full well the answer she'd receive.

And Jacob's hesitance to respond answered her question perfectly.

"Go on," she said again, echoing her earlier encouragement for this boy to slam that wedge deeper into her already fracturing heart.

"Never mind," he muttered, instantly sobered as the blush creeping back into the apples of his cheeks.

"I'm an odd one, Jacob," she said quietly. "And there's hardly a soul who doesn't think so. You're not telling me anything I don't already know by confessing that bit of information to me."

She'd succeeded in making him uncomfortable again, but she found herself not really caring. She liked Jacob, surprisingly, even after this rather awkward and forward conversation, much like the few others they had shared before this night. But maybe his extreme discomfort would teach him not to bring up things like this to other people if he couldn't handle the repercussions.

"I don't think you're crazy," he responded so quietly, Alice almost couldn't hear him.

"You don't do you?" She answered half heartedly, not worrying if he meant it or not. How could she let it bother her when it was true? She was turning rather mad.

"No."

"I certainly wouldn't blame you if you did."

"But I don't," he said rather adamantly.

Alice braved his gaze again, looking straight into his eyes, thinking that maybe if she looked hard enough the truth would be laying at the bottom of those pools of washed out blue.

"Well," she said rather dismissively after her probing gave her very little to work with. "Thanks."

"You don't believe me."

She smiled then, almost a genuine one stretching her lips farther than they'd been stretched in a long while and reached out to pat his shoulder.

"Not in the slightest."

Despite himself, Jacob felt a smile tug at his own lips. "Well then I guess you'll just have to give me time to convince you otherwise."

"I can't do that," Alice chuckled. "No one is at liberty to give Time away. It does what it wants. Did you know that sometimes it stops all together?"

Again, Alice had to give Jacob credit for other than a slight quizzical dip of his eyebrows, the open, friendly expression that had taken up residence on his face didn't waver at her words.

"I was not aware it could do that, no," he said in return.

Alice nodded again, feeling rather sheepish that she had let a piece of logic from _that place_ slip through into her conversation. But when Jacob didn't shy away from her, yet again, she couldn't help the tug in her heart that encouraged her to keep going. Maybe it was silly, but his kindness toward her made her want to open up more than she had in a long, long time.

"As a matter of fact it can. It gets rather offended sometimes; the way people treat it so. Always rushing through or scheduling it into little blocks of Time which they must then rush through… its far less regulated than you would think, considering, and it doesn't enjoy being wasted."

"That's a rather marvelous idea, Miss Alice," Jacob said after a moment of what looked like thoughtfulness.

Alice shook her head. It wasn't just an idea, but it would complicate things less if she just let him think it was.

"I'm afraid sometimes that I've offended Time too," Alice quietly confessed, gazing out at the black water that glittered like diamonds in the moon's pale light.

"You're offending a lot of things lately, aren't you?" Jacob laughed.

Alice said nothing, for what could she say? She had clearly offended the moon, using its honest, open face as a substitute for her dearly missed friend, talked to it as though it were someone else instead of what it was. That must be why it looked so different tonight, so much less friendly than usual. It was tired of being used by her! And Time… who's to say that with every passing minute she spent aboard this ship it was growing more and more offended, the clock ticking and tocking until finally it would get so fed up with her that it would up and stop altogether, trapping her on this journey for good.

"Well I know you said the moon probably wouldn't accept an apology from you, but maybe Time would?" Jacob suggested.

"Time doesn't accept apologies. It just goes on," replied Alice rather somberly.

Beside her she felt the sigh that racked Jacob's body. "I'm sorry Miss…"

"Oh please," she interrupted with a wave of her hand, "stop with the 'Miss' thing. Call me Alice."

"Alright… Alice."

"Anyway, there's no reason for you to be sorry Jacob. This pity party I've been throwing myself really only has room for one anyhow."

She had meant to dissuade his pity, to throw it off of her and make sure it landed somewhere else, preferably into the dark depths of the ocean. She was tired of the sadness, and truly didn't think she could handle the weight of another person's sorrow for her.

"Sailing's not an easy life, you know," Jacob said in response, and in his tone Alice recognized that teacherly wisdom that people take on when they're trying to tell you something important they think they've learned about life. "It's hard… on your body, on your family, on your sanity. But it's easier with friends. I'd like to be your friend Alice, if you'll let me."

Alice stood up straight after a moment, placing her hand at her hip and looking him square in the face to assess him. She knew he was being honest with her, she could see in it his eyes.

"Will you help me find my lost muchness?" She asked before her lips could halt the words path. She realized after she'd said it that it was yet another worry she'd had as of late, feeling so lonely and depressed. She'd begun to feel it slipping away and she wanted it back. If she had chosen a life away from that beautiful, wild, mad place filled with it's colorful, odd people, the very least she could do was to hold on to the muchness it had given her.

Again, the boy frowned with confusion, but seemed to shake it off rather quickly after a quiet moment's thought. "You're much…ness?"

Alice nodded slowly but firmly, never tearing her eyes away from his face as she waited for his answer.

"Aye," he said with a smile. "I'll help you find whatever needs finding Alice. That's what friends are for."

Alice resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his jovial attitude, but couldn't quite fight the smile that stretched across her face. She watched as Jacob reached out a scarred and calloused hand for her to shake, and she accepted it with a gentle squeeze of her own.

"Friends then," she said.

"Good. Well, I should be getting back to my rounds now… Lord knows something's probably gone wrong without my watchful eyes to attend to it."

Alice chuckled as he began to walk away, turning her body back to face the sea.

"You know…" she heard Jacob start to say. She peered back at him over her shoulder. "If you don't mind me saying so, you are a rather odd duck Alice."

Alice smirked at him. "That's what they tell me."

Jacob turned with a grin and headed up towards the helm, whistling an upbeat tune as quietly as possible. Alice was glad he had stopped to talk to her, for his attempts at bringing her out of her dismal mood had if not eradicated them, at least eased them away for a while. It was amazing what having a friend in this world could do for a girl.

She took one final look out at the night that, if not for the moon, would have been like swimming through molten tar, before turning to go below deck and find her cot. With one hand still on the rail, she took one last glance up at the moon, which she was disappointed to see still looked down on her with an accusing glare. She sighed softly, patting the weather worn rail once and whispered so softly that no one but the wind could hear her, "Goodnight Tarrant."

With that she turned around and began making her way towards her sleeping quarters. Her final thought before she closed her eyes and succumbed to exhaustion was a vow to herself that tomorrow would be a good day, a better day, a right proper wonderful day, and then she prepared herself for her usual bout of bad dreams.


	4. How Quickly She Forgets

When Tarrant Hightopp awoke, he found himself in a strange room tucked in neatly beneath a foreign silk blanket the color of moon beams and looking up into a pair of dark, haunting eyes that filled with tears as his eyes met hers.

"Oh, Tarrant," Mirana whispered from behind her hands which were faced together palm to palm and resting on her lips as if she were in the middle of prayer when he had interrupted her with his waking.

"Mirana?" Tarrant croaked. Why did his throat feel like a cheese grater had futterwackened rather vigorously upon its surface? Why did his head throb so painfully? Why were his wrists strapped to the bed…?

Instantly, all questions burned away and his main concern became his pale wrists bound in a tight, sturdy leather hold at each side of his body. He pulled at them, knowing before he did so his attempts to free himself would be useless, but eager to rid himself of such a criminal entrapment. The leather chaffed against his skin but did not budge.

"Why… what's… Mirana?" He muttered, hardly able to tear his eyes away from his miniature prisons.

Mirana reached out and touched a cool hand to his forehead and began to murmur softly to him. "Oh Tarrant, I'm so sorry. I insisted that you were fine and that you would wake up as good as new… which you have, you see! … but I'm afraid they didn't quite believe me. They refused to let me stay with you until they felt you had been… er, properly secured."

A deep sense of embarrassment and fear washed over him as she spoke, filling him to the brim with a dread that he wasn't sure he was ready to face. He knew exactly what had happened, or rather what had happened to him. He was silent for a long while; so long in fact that Mirana began to worry that perhaps he hadn't woken up as good as new. She went over and over the dosage of potion she'd given him (as she'd been doing for the eighteen hours it had taken him to awaken, afraid that in her haste to free him from madness she'd trapped him in a coma) and counting his various injuries, certain that he hadn't caused himself any serious harm. Eventually, he opened his mouth and said, with a profound sense of defeat and sadness, four little words.

"Did I hurt anyone?"

Mirana sighed. Of course that would be his first question. She couldn't ease him into anything when he asked the things that would be most difficult for him to hear first! She'd had ample opportunity sitting at his bedside to come up with the right things to say, but she had done nothing but worry. _I could kick myself for being so stupid! _She thought rather glumly.

Tarrant had hoped to see her shake her head, hoped for an immediate "no" to grace her lips and wash over him in a blanket of relief. But she waited too long to answer him, and in her silence was his answer.

He squeezed his eyes shut fiercely, shame clouding over him like a black shroud of misery. "Who?" He squeaked out.

Mirana dropped her head and sighed, pulling her hand away from her friend's face and placing it at her temple to rub away the worrisome headache she had given herself. "Just a servant girl. She thought she could help you so she ran inside your rooms…"

"Why? Dear Fates why would she do such a thing?"

"I don't know Tarrant," Mirana answered simply, mentally cursing the girl's well intentioned stupidity. She placed her hand on his forearm, leaning forward slightly. "But she did and you… well I gave her some Quidmint juice I had stored and she healed before a doctor could be called to assess her injuries. She's perfectly fine, so don't worry yourself over it."

Tarrant felt his muscles tense with anger. Anger at himself for losing control so viciously he had hurt another person, a woman even, anger with Mirana for treating him like a child who needn't accept responsibility for his actions, of trying so desperately to tip toe around his feelings. He didn't deserve it.

"I could've killed her!" He burst out suddenly.

Mirana flinched but didn't remove her hand from his shaking arm. "No, Tarrant, you wouldn't have killed her."

"How d' yeh knae tha'?" He spat back, continuing on even though Mirana opened her mouth to argue with him. "No, Mirana! Yeh don' knae wha' I'm capable o'… o' wha' I'll do when I can' control mehself like tha'!"

Mirana had periodically throughout her beloved hatter's rest felt her eyes fill with tears as she watched him sleep. Even then, amidst his dreams he was uneasy and tense, his hands bunching and un-bunching themselves into white knuckled fists. She was sad for his pain, sad for his anguish. And now that he was awake and facing the reality of what he had done, she found the sorrow she felt for his shame and disappointment in himself double and her eyes filled with hot, salty tears once more. Such terrible feelings shouldn't be accosting such a good man on this daily basis. It was just cruel.

"Tarrant…. Tarrant listen to me," she said, grasping his arm with both of her hands. "You can't think like that. You didn't kill that stupid girl, and you wouldn't have even if you had the opportunity again. Even amidst that madness you're never too far gone to recognize that kind of wickedness and to stray from it. You're not that kind of person, Tarrant, and you never will be, no matter how deep the madness drags you down."

She was pretty sure she was lying, both to herself and him, but she was unable to face Truth at the moment. She was also pretty sure he knew she was lying to him, for what did she really know about his madness? She, who had never been dragged anywhere or been forced to do anything against her will in her entire life?

He took a few deep, ragged breaths, trying to collect himself but refused to look at her. Instead he gazed out the large window to his left, peering out at the bright green of the grounds through the gauzy curtains that billowed out with the incoming breeze. For several long minutes, the pair sat in absolute silence, Tarrant looking at nothing and Mirana waiting.

Without turning to look at her, Tarrant spoke. "It's gettin' worse, isn't i'?"

Mirana waited until he turned his head on the pillow and looked at her before she answered.

"Yes," she said sadly with a slight nod of her head, choking back the tears that leaned precariously on the edges of her eye lashes, threatening to make the leap down her frost pale cheeks.

Tarrant sighed, again looking so utterly defeated Mirana wanted to cry out. "I've thought of everything I can think of Tarrant, really I have. But there's nothing I can do to help you, no potion or draught or…"

"No," Tarrant said quietly, his voice quite normal sounding, no lisp or Scottish brogue to fill the empty spaces around his words. "There is no cure for madness."

For a moment they simply stared at each other, looking into the other's face for some sort of comfort neither knew how to obtain. Mirana reached up her hand and attempted to tame some of his wild orange curls before giving up that fruitless task and resting her hand on his cheek. She attempted a smile, and was relieved when the corners of his mouth lifted the slightest little bit in return. It couldn't exactly be called a smile, or even really more than a twitch, but she'd take it.

"She's trying to forget us," Tarrant whispered, the pain in his eyes multiplying.

Mirana had suspected something of the sort, and had been afraid this was the reason for her Royal Hatter's sudden spiral into impending madness. She didn't understand how Alice could do such a thing, or why she felt it necessary, or even how Tarrant could accurately know such a thing himself. But he did, and she knew as she looked into his eyes that what he said was the truth. She let a long, painful silence fall between them because she could think of nothing else to say in return.

"Here!" She said suddenly, reaching down towards the thick leather belts that tied her friend's arms down. "Let's get these ridiculous things off of you now. I told them there was no need, that it was ludicrous to bind you up so after the fact…" Her fingertips had hardly brushed the cool metal buckle when Tarrant's hands twitched beneath them.

"No."

Mirana looked up at him with confusion gracing her every feature, her hands poised over his wrists like dainty spider legs. "Whatever do you mean no? Tarrant…"

"I'd like to keep them on a bit longer, if you don't mind Your Majesty," he said calmly before turning his head away from her again.

Mirana didn't know what to do. She felt her heart contract inside of her chest, and wished, for perhaps the first time ever, that she was a more violent person. If she were, she would rip off his binds and push him out into the castle to eat something and get some rest in his own apartment, yelling at him the whole way to stop being such a baby and just forgive himself already.

But she wasn't, and she didn't. So she hesitantly took her hands away from his wrist and placed them quietly in her lap. They looked so inadequate there, lying amongst the white satin and lace, unable even to free her friend from his physical prison.

"And, I'd like to be alone, if you would be so kind," Tarrant said quietly, his voice more monotone than Mirana had ever heard it sound before.

She nodded to herself and soundlessly rose from her chair, heading towards the door. Once there she looked back at her friend, a focal point of vibrant color against the pale color scheme of the room and sighed. "I'll have some tea sent up for you," she said softly. He didn't respond, so with another pitied sigh she left the room and shut the door behind her with a soft click.

That night, before she bid hello to her dreams, Mirana walked past the Royal Hatter's current residence to check on him. She hesitated before entering, leaning her ear against the door first to hear if he was awake or not.

"You're rather blocking my view," the grumpy doorknob behind her skirts whined. "And I don't know why you're listening to the door when I could tell you he's been asleep for an hour."

Mirana rolled her eyes at the rudeness but reached down to twist the knob anyway, turning it slowly so as not to wake him.

He was right where she'd left him of course, in the bed with his wrists bound and the blanket pulled up to his chest. Beside him on the night table, both trays of tea that she had sent up sat cold and completely full, untouched by her friend's lips.

She sighed another world weary sigh, which, when she thought about it, were starting to add up. She hardly ever sighed, and it was becoming such a common occurrence. Seeing that he was at least asleep and not tormenting himself, Mirana shut the door quietly and leaned her forehead against the cool surface in a moment of defeat. What could she do? There must be something she hadn't thought of yet… but she already knew she'd thought of and researched everything and that nothing of the sort existed. Nothing she could create could aid him, and nothing she could do could bring _her_ back.

"You know us doorknobs don't take kindly to people leaning their bloody stomachs all over us, as I tried explaining a moment ago," the doorknob snapped again.

"Oh shut your keyhole!" Mirana snapped at it, before turning on her heel and disappearing in the general direction of her rooms for what she already expected to be a listless, comfortless sleep.


End file.
